The Doctor Gets Desperate
by TheShoelessOne
Summary: He's had companions that have saved the world, the universe, even reality itself. Frankly, it can only go downhill from there, can't it? Possible s4 spoilers! The Doctor loves reviews!
1. Molly Shae Callaghan

**Chapter One: Molly Shae Callaghan  
**

The week had gone terribly well for Molly Callaghan, until the multitudes of marching metal monstrosities had burst from behind the act curtain at the auditorium. She smiled at the alliteration despite herself, then returned to double-deadbolting the heavy metal door. She whipped around, throwing her back against the door and splaying her hands across it as if they'd offer any extra protection.

"You're a handful," she said from between teeth gritted in anticipation.

His mouth dropped open a notch as he ran the screwdriver down the seal of the door, the grinding noise still piercing in her untrained ear. "_I'm_ a handful? _You're_ downright cracked!"

"Sticks and stones, Doctor." She grinned disarmingly.

Molly's day had started several hours earlier, mostly devoid of robots and aliens in pinstripe suits. She'd woken two minutes before her alarm again, and was up and ready in only ten minutes, a warm Poptart hanging between her teeth. She worked early on Wednesdays and she was determined to foil her boss's plans to purloin her microwavable pastry.

The fall air was crisp, plucking at her coffee-colored turtleneck and soft, brown leather jacket. She liked to think that her few extra pounds kept her warm in the colder months, like a walrus, but when the wind turned down and brought the skittering brown and orange leaves with it, she knew that the world was changing. She wrangled her long, wavy, dark-auburn hair up in a ponytail, pushed her square glasses up the bridge of her nose and stepped out of the dormitory.

The sun was barely up and the wind was barely alive. Which is why she was surprised when, from the back alley behind her dorm, a gust of wind appeared with an echoing _vwoorp vwoorp_ sound. She pondered over the onomatopoeia for a moment then trucked on toward work.

A moment later, footsteps sounded behind her in a light jog. The more exercise-savvy students always ran in the dim hours of morning and dusk, so she payed them no heed. When they slowed as they approached behind her, she stiffened and turned immediately.

"I know Tae-Kwon-Do!" she shouted, holding up bladed hands.

The man behind her looked windswept and travel-worn, a brown pinstripe suit on a paper-thin frame covered by a long duster. He held up his hands in surrender, his eyebrows almost up into his wild hair. She felt an instant impulse to ruffle it.

"Sorry," he said, his accent recognizably British. "Sorry, I just wanted to know what day it is."

Molly lowered her hands slightly. "Wednesday, November 5th, 2008," she answered.

The man dropped his hands as well, mouth bobbing speechless for a moment. "That was... refreshingly accurate. Thank you."

"I seriously know Tae-Kwon-Do," she reminded him, fisting her hands again.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, shifting his weight and cutting in with a sharp breath. "Listen, is anything... _unusual_ going on here?" Even his voice felt as if this might be a stretch.

"It's Bateman," she replied. "There's always something weird going on." One finger rose from her side and she pointed vaguely to her teeth. "You got a little something-something."

"What?" His eyebrows drew down comically fast, one hand headed for his mouth.

She grinned. "Gotcha."

Molly turned away, knowing now that she would lamentably be only ten minutes early for work. She'd have to book it before she was on time. The footsteps picked up again from behind her, and the man fell into step beside her.

"What was your name?" He asked as if she'd already told him.

"Molly Shae Callaghan," she replied.

"Again, nice and specific. And what is it that you do, Molly Shae Callaghan?"

"I'm a writer." She looked proud of the fact. "And who are you?" Her tone was easy, as if she'd forgotten that she'd threatened him with deadly martial arts.

"I'm the Doctor," he replied, pulling out a small wallet and flashing an ID at her. "Investigative journalist. I'm doing a bit on writers in college. Mind if I follow you around for a while?"

"All right. Do I have to sign anything?"

"Nope." He popped the P enthusiastically.

"Sweet." She paused in speech, her eyes on the ground. "Your shoes are awesome."

He looked down and grinned, showing off a row of perfectly white teeth. "Are they?"

"Can I have them?" Her eyes were big and round as they met his. His eyebrows turned down again.

"I'm wearing them," he responded.

"Later?"

"What would _I_ wear?"

"I have some man boots."

"I don't want your man boots." The last two words came out drawn and exaggerated.

"Fine." She shrugged her shoulder bag up. "Your feet probably smell funny anyway."

* * *

As Molly stood behind the circulation desk at the Music Library, the Doctor sat in the office directly across from her, sitting in a far-too-small swivel chair and running a hand up and down his weary face.

_I'm desperate. Sooo desperate_.

_You don't have to pick the first human you come across. Tell her you forgot something and run off._

She caught his eye, smiled brightly and waved, mouthing the words 'I'm at work!' He smiled back, weakly.

_I've already picked someone. So she's a little eccentric, who says you aren't? Picking someone else could be an even bigger mistake._

At the desk, Molly laughed loud and bright and ended with a sound almost like a hiccup.

The Doctor almost whimpered. _Sooo lonely..._

Someone approached from behind, further back in the office, and the Doctor turned accordingly. The man was almost tall, hidden somewhere behind massive glasses, thinning hair and a loud Hawaiian shirt. This must be The Boss.

"Can I help you?" he asked. He smiled helpfully. The man must have lived to help people.

The Doctor thought quickly, as he was wont to do. "No. I mean, no, I'm waiting on Molly."

"She doesn't get off for another hour. Are your sure you don't need anything?" He seemed insistent. The Doctor considered giving the man the name of an obscure composer and asking for his life's work.

"Actually," the Doctor said, standing, "have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Objects falling from the sky, atmospheric disturbances?"

The Boss pondered. "There was this strange mass e-mail prank a couple days ago. Didn't seem very important, kids get ahold of e-mail addresses and pissing a handful of people off. But this went out to so many people..." The Boss trailed off, looking over the Doctor's shoulder as if to look for anyone who might have a library need.

"Do you remember what the e-mail said?" This could be interesting.

"Something about Grapes of Wrath being imperfect and..." He thought deeply. "Something about _eliminating_ it?_Exterminating_ it?" The Doctor stiffened, but The Boss pondered on. "No, _deleting_ it. That's it." He shrugged. "I thought the play was pretty good. They made it rain on stage and everything."

"SNICKELFRITZ!" Molly growled from the front desk after a book had dropped on her finger. "Sorry! Sorry. Library voice."

Molly watched the Doctor deep in conversation with her boss, her heart glowing with pride. He was interviewing her boss about her. Her coworker reappeared beside her, tall and thin with shaggy black hair and a prominent nose.

"Snickelfritz?" he asked. She nodded plainly.

"I'm trying to cut back on cursing, so I'm coming up with interesting euphemisms." She grinned giddily. "Danny, guess what."

"What?" He asked, reshelving a CD on the shelves behind the desk.

"That sharp fella talking to Greg back there is interviewing me. Or followng me around. He's kinda like a stalker." Her smile was a long line curled up at the corners like a cat's mouth. He didn't seem as enthusiastic at the news.

"That's creepy."

"I bet he weighs less than you."

"He's taller than me, that's not fair."

They paused, a pause thick with backstory. She smiled again, a bit more awkwardly.

"Hey Danny, I've got two tickets to Grapes of Wrath tonight." She looked up over the top of her glasses. He shuffled the papers superfluously.

"I've got a sinus infection," he replied. "I don't want to get anyone sick."

Her smile fell. "Those aren't communicable," she said solemnly. After another pause heavy with exposition, they moved apart.

The Doctor appeared at the desk, smirking with a bounce in his step. "Your boss is interesting. I had to get him to look up P.D.Q Bach's biography before he'd leave me alone."

"We think that strangeness is a prerequisite for working here," Molly said. "You'd fit in."

"What? What makes you think I'm strange?"

"White chucks with a brown suit? _Awkward_!" She jumped as if goosed. "Oh! Doctor, I haven't introduced you to Danny! DANNY!"

He jumped and turned, white-eyed.

"Danny, this is the Doctor. He's an investigative journalist and in no way a creepy stalker."

The Doctor nodded, extending his hand enthusiastically. "Nice to meet you, Danny."

Molly grinned fanatically. "He's British," she whispered loudly. "Isn't that boss?"

Danny cautiously shook hands with the Doctor, whose smile stayed absolutely the same for near on a minute. Danny turned to Molly, halfway to saucer-eyed.

"I think I'll shelve books now," he said. "Good luck with your stalker."

"Oy," the Doctor called after Danny's retreating back. "I'm not a stalker! I'm a completely legitimate investigative journalist!" He turned back to Molly, leaning on the circ desk and returning his full grin to his face. "So, I hear you've got an extra ticket to the play tonight."

* * *

AN: .... Okay, hello there :D I'm new to writing for the Doctor Who fandom, soooo, hello all you new people out there! Everyone who has me on their Author Alerts and has no idea what Doctor Who is, I'm sorry! Oh, and get on that! It's a fantabulous show! Anyway, I wanted to point out that YES, Molly is based on me, but that's the point. If the Doctor gets desperate and picks up any random girl as a companion, she's not gonna be the best of the bunch. I've also tried to toe the Mary-Sue line with her, making her eccentric enough to not be labled as such, but still able to be pigeon-holed there for the sake of the fic. I've had this idea ever since Journey's End (WHYYYYY???!!?!) and I wrote this bit between stuff for NaNoWriMo. I'd like some feedback on it, and I'm definitely thinking of continuing it if anyone is interested in the misadventures of the Weirdest/Worst Companion Ever. Please no flaming, it's meant to be humorous, but const. crit is welcomed and appreciated. Thanks for reading so far, leave us some love, and stay awesome!


	2. Raisins of Fury

**Chapter Two: Raisins of Fury**

Molly and the Doctor parted company an hour before the play began, she skipping back toward her dorm and he disappearing back down the side alley he'd mysteriously arrived from. Molly fancied that he was some sort of glorious hobo, with the biggest cardboard box of them all.

It had been a good long time since she'd had the need to dress up for anything. While it was only a play, she figured that any reason to dress up with a man as good-looking as the Doctor was fine by her.

"He's the kind of guy you only see on television," she reported to her roommate Jenny as she tore clothing haphazardly out of the closet.

"I think you're making him up," Jenny responded, working diligently on her hair.

"Lies!" Molly cried, throwing on a brown tunic-style shirt and twirling in it to see if the shape fitted her fancy. "Peas and rice, I look like I'm pregnant in this thing."

"You look fine."

"You don't _understand_," Molly groaned, standing unusually close to Jenny's chair. "Superfine doesn't even _begin_ to explain this guy. Besides," she returned to her own mirror and tried to tame the beast that was her hair, "since things aren't working out with Danny, I need to open myself back up to the market." She turned with a giddy expression. "I should walk down Court Street with a sign around my neck... 'Molly Callaghan, back on the market boys!' No, 'Molly Callaghan, new and improved!' No, 'Molly Callaghan 2: Electric Boogaloo!'"

"That's enough," Jenny cut in, somewhere between exasperation and a giggle fit. "Go have fun with your hobo Romeo."

"You're a poet and you didn't know it," Molly said absently, fishing for socks in her sock crate.

Five minutes later, halfway into her shoes, a knock came to the door. She hopped over, one foot hanging out of her shoe, and leaned on the handle to open the door. The Doctor leaned to one side to peer into the small crack she'd opened, smiling ear-to-ear.

"Doctor!" Molly exclaimed, surprised, and nearly fell off of her one-footed perch. "You can't come in!"

"Why not? You opened the door, didn't you?"

"I only have one shoe on!" She protested.

And she slammed the door back on him. Nonplussed, he waited in the corridor outside, leaning up against the opposite wall and watching the college females pass by. They stared as they walked past, as if they'd never seen a man before. He _was_ dressed up, bow-tie and everything.

Molly appeared in the doorway again, with a girl her age peeking out from behind to get a look at him. "Doctor, this is an all girl's dorm. How'd you get in?"

He pulled out a skinny metal device with a blue LCD light at the end, twirling it slightly. "Skeleton key."

"Boss," Molly said, grinning in a mirror of him. "Can I touch it?"

"No," the Doctor said defensively, tucking it back into his jacket pocket. He nodded to the girl behind Molly. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, that's Jenny Wallace. She thinks you're a hobo."

Jenny shook her head, but all too late as the door shut between them. The Doctor offered his arm and Molly linked hers with his, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet in anticipation. A group of two girls passed by, looking up at the man who towered over them.

"He's my date!" Molly exclaimed loudly as they headed for the door.

"No we're not!" The Doctor remedied, just as loudly.

"He's stalking me!"

"Molly, let's play the quiet game, all right?"

They stepped out of the dorm into the darkness that had settled across campus, and into the quietly falling snow. Molly gave a light gasp and gripped the Doctor's arm tightly.

"Oh, Doctor, would you look at that?" She broke from him and took off at a skip into the snow that was already accumulating on the cold street. "It's beautiful."

He stuck his hands into his pockets and smirked. "An honest-to-goodness snow at last," he muttered, looking up into the sky. "It's not Christmas, but it'll do."

"Come on," she said, taking hold of his elbow and pulling him out into the street, "or will miss the play! Dawdle, dawdle..."

The snow caught like diamonds in their hair, and even though she considered it their first date, she resisted the urge to ruffle it out of his hair.

* * *

The noise level was at a gentle murmur as Molly pulled out their tickets and they were ushered together into the house. From the lobby, the theater opened up like walking into a cave decorated in red. Theatergoers already took up a great number of the seats, as the curtain time was dangerously close. The lobby lights had already flashed once. The usher kindly showed them to their seats, which were halfway toward the stage and on the aisle, the best Molly could find. Once seated, she turned to him.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, Doctor," she began seriously. "I wanted to bring Danny tonight, so I'm honestly settling for second best here."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at her. "Nice to know where I stand, I guess." He checked his inner jacket pocket, where he'd place that skeleton key and kept his eyes alert.

"I heard they make it rain on stage," Molly said, trying to get a better look beyond the red act curtain.

"I heard someone doesn't have a very high opinion of the play," he answered. She turned.

"Oh, that e-mail thing?" She shrugged. "Probably some pigeon-hole with a computer. Which doesn't eliminate even half of the kids on campus."

The doors to the lobby closed with several loud _thunk_s followed by the lowering of the house lights overhead. The crowd began to clap, like the sound of rain on a high roof. Molly and the Doctor joined in.

Once the clapping had stopped, some far-off rhythmic sound persisted, as if several people, far back on the balcony, were still clapping to a hoedown. Molly screwed her eyebrows down and searched the audience.

"Who the hamburger is making all that noise?" She whispered harshly.

The Doctor was on his feet in an instant, to the chagrin of those seated behind him. "Oh, no, no, _no_!"

The act curtain opened up, the actors in place on stage, with the sound only growing louder. Molly tugged on the Doctor's sleeve as the discontent around him grew from his sudden outburst.

"Sit down!"

"--can't see--"

"Doctor!"

The last came from Molly, who had joined him standing and pointed straight at the stage.

With a piercing scream from one of the women on stage, a line of marching metal monstrosities emerged from stage left, tearing at the act curtain as they came. A collective scream rippled through the crowd, several more theatergoers joining Molly and the Doctor on their feet as the marching creatures came into view.

The act curtain came thudding to the stage, sending a shock through the seats and bouncing everyone else to their feet. They stood taller than a man, completely covered in metal with black, soulless eyes. There were more than a dozen of them, in two or three perfect lines like a regiment of soldiers. They marched completely in synch, coming to a halt right in front of the actors.

One cyborg pointed straight at the lead actor. The audience was already in the aisles, several of them beating at the doors in the back to escape. The Doctor and Molly stood still in the seats, watching.

"Doctor," Molly whispered, crouching down to peer over the back of the seat in front of her. "What _are_ those things?!"

"Cybermen," the Doctor replied, teeth set in a straight line. "They never, _ever_ give up, do they?"

"You've seen them before?!" Molly's eyes were as incredulous as her voice.

"Oh yes," he replied exasperatedly. "A few times too many. Stay down!" And with that, he stepped up onto his seat and stood on the back of the chair in front of him. And he hopped down the backs of the empty chairs, avoiding the weaving, frightened theatergoers and never losing his balance. Molly stared after him in awe.

"**You are imperfect**," the lead Cyberman droned, a detachable weapon appearing from the armor of his arm.

"Woah, woah, wait!" The Doctor cried from the audience, perched between the backs of two chairs and wobbling slightly.

"**Identify yourself**," a second Cyberman demanded in the same voice.

"I'm the Doctor," he said importantly, "and that's an innocent human being. According to the statutes of the Shadow Proclamation, execution of a human being on Earth soil is against the intergalactic laws laid down--"

A muffled 'oof' interrupted both parties, and the Doctor turned his head to see Molly trying to struggle up onto the back of a chair like the Doctor, with one leg up and over.

"Yeah," she grunted, crawling over until she was nearly face-first in the seat she was trying to mount the back of. A third Cyberman trained its blaster on her as she finally managed to stand Captain Morgan style, one leg up on the back and the other flat on the unfolded seat in front.

"**Identify yourself**," the third Cyberman demanded.

"Molly Shae Callaghan," she said just as proudly. "And I ain't 'fraid of no Cybermens!"

The Doctor planted his weary face in his hand.

"**Subject found to be imperfect**," it droned in return. "**DELETE**."

"Molly, look out!" The Doctor cried, and with no time to waste, he dove at her. He snatched her off of the chair and they thudded into the aisle together.

Overhead, the beams of the Cybermens' guns fired into the empty seats, into the running crowd. The cast on stage fled as fast as they could, jumping off the stage and running into the darkness of backstage. The Doctor shielded the both of them, glaring up at the cyborgs on the stage.

From underneath him, Molly muttered, "Doctor, I think you're very attractive, but this isn't the best time to come on to me."

"Quiet!" He demanded, hopping up into a defensive crouch. He pulled out that skeleton key again. "I told you to stay behind!"

"You look like the kind of person who needs a little help," Molly replied, joining him again. "And I happen to know Tae-Kwon-Do."

He opened his mouth to protest, to tell her that he didn't think that she was ready for the job, that he'd chosen wrong and that she should get to somewhere safe. But over the screams and the discharge of cyberweapons, the girl beside him was grinning and ready, looking him straight in the eye and crouched to spring into action.

"All right, but stay close! I don't think martial arts are going to be much help."

"Oh, you just wait!"

They sprang up together, using the seats as cover as they made their way toward the stage. "We need to get them away from everyone else before they kill someone!" the Doctor cried over the cyberguns.

"I've got an idea, Doctor," Molly replied, peeking once over the back of the chair before ducking back down, "but where d'you want to get them to? I mean--to where do you want to get them?"

"Is this really the time for correct grammar?"

"If we don't have grammar, Doctor, _what do we have_?"

He stared incredulously at her serious face for only a moment longer before shaking his head. "Somewhere isolated. The Cybermen are generally logic-driven. If we can get them to a point where we can make an agreement--"

"I've got it!" She cried, echoing amongst laserblasts. She hopped up from behind the cover. "Hey, Cybermen!" She cried. "If you're looking for imperfect, I'm your poster child! Hope you can march fast, 'cause I know Tae-Kwon-Do!"

"**DELETE**."

And she ran. The Doctor scrambled up after her, grabbing her hand and falling into tandem beside her. The Cybermen repeated their mantra in their dull robotic voices, marching at a quickened pace after them.

"You're crazy!" The Doctor bellowed over the noise as Molly threw open the stage-right door with her shoulder.

"Yeah!" She crowed, grinning.

* * *

AN: I'm back, and so is Molly! Those looking for more action, hope this helps! I'm rewatching some episodes so hopefully I'll get some rapid DocTalk stuff in later on, so I'm doing my research. Let me know if this is terrible or not, so I can go in and fix stuff if I need to. As always, const. crit is very welcome but flames make me a very sad birdie. Sorry for cliffies, but I don't want to give it all away for those who are following it :D Oh, she's so much fun to write. Thanks for reading so far, and stay awesome!!


	3. The Great Limus Empire

**Chapter Three: The Great Limus Empire**

Molly dragged the Doctor after her, heading further backstage. In attempts to get some distance between them and the multitudes of marching metal monstrosities, she led them through another side door. She smiled at the alliteration, then returned to double-deadbolting the heavy metal door. She whipped around, throwing her back against the door and splaying her hands across it as if they'd offer any extra protection.

"You're a handful," she said from between teeth gritted in anticipation.

His mouth dropped open a notch. "_I'm_ a handful? _You're_ downright cracked!"

"Sticks and stones, Doctor." She grinned disarmingly. The broke away from the door as the sound of the approaching Cybermen increased.

"Molly," the Doctor said, rounding the corner at a run with her hand held tightly in his, "I have a confession to make."

"Oh cranberry sauce, you're gay, aren't you?" She pouted, breathing hard already.

His face contorted severely. "No! Well, I mean--No!"

"I knew it," she frowned, leading the Doctor down toward the green room. "This always happens to me. Meet a nice guy, he stalks you for a while, turns out he's gay."

"Technically I'm--" The Doctor tried, but found himself face to face with a solid door. "Molly, what's this?" The door they'd left behind them crashed open under the combined force of the squadron of Cybermen.

"The green room," she said. "It's where all the actors hang out and talk about how awesome they are before they go on stage." She shrugged. "I was a techie in high school." She yanked on the doors, and they didn't so much as budge. "Fluffernutters! Who locks a green room during a performance?!"

"Someone who thinks that a locked room is a safe room," he replied, fiddling with the device in his hand. Pressing a button, a light came on and a terrible whirring noised filled the air as he applied it to the lock.

Molly threw her hands over her ears, looking over her shoulder. The shadows of the Cybermen were approaching, and the sounds of the screaming crowd had quieted. Maybe they were all safe and away.

"All right!" He shouted, yanking the door open and ushering Molly inside. The room was large, with an old TV mounted on the wall and several opened pop cans littering the varied tables and chairs. Two actors, still in costume, shrieked at their appearance and ran into the dressing room, locking it behind them as well. Molly leapt over the old sofa to hide behind, leaving the Doctor in the center of the room, awaiting the oncoming enemies. Legs spread in a defensive stance, arms taught and fisted at his sides.

"What're you gonna say?" Molly asked over the ever-increasing sound of their metallic footsteps.

"Something clever," he replied, barely looking over his shoulder at her. "Molly, since you've gotten yourself into this, there's a thing or two you should know about me."

"I don't judge you based on your sexual orientation, Doctor," Molly shouted back, the marching now almost intolerable in the closed corridors behind the stage.

"I'm an _alien_!" He cried, throwing frustrated arms to the ceiling. "Cor, you're hard to talk around!"

Before either could shout another word, the marching ceased. The Doctor and Molly turned wide-eyed to the doorway, where twelve Cybermen stood in perfect formation, all with weapons trained on the Doctor. He held up his hands quickly.

"**Where is the girl?**"

Molly held up her fists from behind the sofa and twirled them like a turn-of-the-century boxer. The Doctor waved her back.

"Listen," the Doctor cut in, "there's got to be a civilized way to go about this. Two intelligent sentient beings like us." He winced. "Did I mention good-looking?"

"**You are the Doctor.**" The lead Cyberman said in his mechanic voice.

The Doctor nodded emphatically. "Yes, that's me, I'm the Doctor. Now, I'm against mass destruction as a whole, but there's usually some sense to it, isn't there?" There came a pause, punctuated only by the weeping of the actors trapped in the bathroom. "So," he added, exaggerating his syllables and features, "_why_ Grapes of Wrath?"

"**I was forced to read the whole thing in sophomore year.**"

The Doctor and Molly exchanged a glance.

"**Yeah,**" said a second cyborg, "**Mrs. Robinson's class was completely lame. She gave us a quiz every day.**"

"**And what's with that turtle chapter?**" A third cut in with the same buzzing, droning voice. "**It's a stupid turtle. Does it really need a whole chapter?**"

"It's allegorical!!" Molly shouted angrily from behind the sofa, rising up and swinging her fists again in frustration. "Why doesn't _anyone_ get the turtle chapter?!"

"Wait a second," the Doctor said, glaring hard at the Cybermen. "There isn't even a turtle in the play. Well--" He cut himself off, looking to Molly, "--we didn't really get to _see_ it, so I don't really know if there was a turtle or not but, I can guess... But who doesn't like Grapes of Wrath? It's a brilliant book about the human condition!"

"**Imperfect,**" the first Cyberman chanted again. "**Just like ****Tess of the D'Urbervilles****.**"

"**Oh no, do not even get me started.**" The second chided in a flat robotic voice.

"**DELETE.**"

"Hold that thought!" The Doctor cried and joined Molly behind the couch as one of the Cybermen's weapons discharged. They all began firing into the green room.

"What a bunch of critics," Molly fumed. "Agreed, I didn't like Tess so much, but Grapes of Wrath! That's a classic!"

"Now, I know Cybermen, believe me," the Doctor said, watching the haphazard trajectories of the cyber weapons more keenly in the closed space. "They're good shots, at the least. And I don't know a single Cyberman who's ever troubled himself with Earth literature..."

"Something's rotten in the state of Denmark?" Molly ventured. The Doctor nodded slowly.

"If I could synch up the screwdriver with an amplifier--"

"Fancy alien technology and all you need is an amp that goes to eleven?"

He arched an expressive eyebrow. "You're taking it pretty well."

"The president was assassinated on live TV about a year ago, Doctor," she reminded him. "Besides, it's a short step from stalker to alien." Her eyes scanned the room and locked on the karaoke machine and its speakers across the room. "Doctor!" Her arm shout out, nearly catching him under the chin.

"Got it!" He cried. "Stay here! Get their attention or something. Doesn't look like they're a very good shot, whatever they are."

She flashed him a thumbs-up, then poked her head over the side of the couch. "Hey! Cybermen! I thought that Flaubert's use of imagery only heightened the effect of his work in _Madame Bovary_!" She hissed, "Go Doctor!" just as the Cybermen opened fire in her direction and she moved further along the couch, away from the Doctor's escape route. He stayed low and rolled to the karaoke machine. He turned the switch to ON, and a song came belting suddenly out of the speakers.

_NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP_

_NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN_

_NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU._

"SORRY!" The Doctor shouted.

"**DELETE.**" The Cybermen chanted, turning to the Doctor. Molly threw her hands into the air and jumped up and down frantically.

"I think _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_ is the most influential piece of literature from the last 300 years!" She shouted loudly over the warblings of Rick Astley.

The Cybermen paused in their destruction and turned, aghast, back to Molly. "**No way**," one countered, "**Coleridge was a stick-in-the-mud.**"

"**Robert Frost's **_**Road Not Taken**_** was so much better,**" another fired back.

"I don't debate the long-standing aesthetic of the poem," Molly cried over the music, "simply that Frost's legacy isn't as deeply-rooted as Coleridge's work!"

"**It is a classic piece of literature recognized everywhere**," the head Cyberman argued.

"But _Rime of the Ancient Mariner_ changed the direction of English poetry and eventually led to the beginnings of British romanticism!" Molly railed. "DOCTOR, ARE YOU QUITE DONE?!"

"GOT IT!" He shouted, and plunged the head of the screwdriver into the main speaker of the karaoke machine.

The unbearable pulsing sound transmitted from the speakers at tenfold volume, throbbing in Molly's ears and forcing her to the ground, hands over her head. Rick Astley's unnatural voice boomed from the speakers with the sonic sounds of the screwdriver, along with the tortured screams of the Cybermen as they reeled in pain.

One of the Cybermen's heads exploded in a shower of glittering sparks. The room felt as if it shook around them, and Molly tried her best to hide her head under the sofa cushions. Another Cyberman screamed and its head exploded as well. Soon, the room was like a microwave and the cyber heads like popcorn, and they popped to the last one of them.

"Hah!" The Doctor proclaimed loudly as he removed the screwdriver and shut off the karaoke machine. "Now, let's see what we've got here!"

Molly climbed over the back of the couch, her ears ringing and brain still thundering. "Don't you have any quieter weapons of mass destruction?" She asked.

Her question went ignored as the Doctor knelt next to one of the fallen Cybermen. The head was blown apart, and as he knelt closer, the center of its chest popped and hissed, releasing a mechanism and opening up to the heart of the cyborg. Both Molly and the Doctor reeled back.

A small glob of a creature was situated in a tiny control room of sorts in the middle of the Cyberman's chest, its huge eyes taking up most of its gooey body. The Doctor pulled out a pair of plastic-rimmed glasses and squinted hard at the creature.

"Woah," Molly muttered. "It's like... melted chocolate." She paused, pressing her lips together in thought. "Wonder what it tastes like."

The Doctor turned to fix her with a look of disgust, which melted into an honest shrug and he turned back to the fake Cyberman.

"They're Limuses," he said in a low, thoughtful voice. "Formless little parasite things," he clarified. "But what are you doing _here_? And dressed as Cybermen"

The limus glared at the Doctor. "The Cybermen and the Daleks are the only ones you take seriously," it complained in a voice that sounded eerily reminiscent of Mickey Mouse.

"Whaat?" The Doctor asked, squinting again.

"We thought that if we looked like Cybermen, you might take us seriously for once." The limus held up tiny little limbs, muddy and dripping, in what Molly supposed were fists.

"So we've met before?" The Doctor asked incredulously, his eyes going wide.

"Of course!" The limus crowed. It was joined in a chorus by the other limuses, who had escaped their cyber vessels. Together, they might have formed a cat. "You are our arch nemesis, Doctor!"

The Doctor ran a nervous hand over the back of his neck. "Sorry, don't remember ever infuriating a limus."

"So basically what you're saying," Molly cut in, "is that you're basically the Amoeba Brothers from space?"

"What are you going on about?" The Doctor asked.

Molly ignored him this time and knelt beside the head limus. "Hey, little limey dude," she began comfortingly, "did it ever feel that, even though the Doctor committed atrocious acts against you, all he ever seemed to do was fight with bigger baddies?"

"Yes," the limus said sadly. "We suffered through terrible literature because of the Doctor."

"What?" The Doctor complained. "What do I have to do with The Grapes of Wrath?"

"When you aided the Great Limus Empire and the Tiny Limus Empress," another limus chirped in a similar voice, "the government realized how it had been squandering its resources. When the Tiny Empress took over, it became vastly more efficient in several areas, including educating young limuses."

"The Great Limus Library expanded to include several million Earth volumes, including the much-hated Grapes of Wrath," the head limus finished.

"Let me get this straight," the Doctor said, whipping off his glasses for effect. "You blame me for your school curriculum?"

"Yes!" the head limus declared. "And because of your meddling, we've searched the galaxies for you."

"And," Molly cut in sympathetically, "every time you stood up to him, he ignored you."

"Hey! Whose side are you on here?" The Doctor protested.

"But they're so _cute_," Molly crooned.

"Listen," the Doctor said, "they've broken intergalactic law here, threatening the lives of innocent citizens of Earth."

"You mean... We've finally done something bad enough?" The head limus's huge eyes lit up several different swimming colors, like a lava lamp. Molly clutched her hands together and cooed.

"Yeah," the Doctor replied, dragging it out slowly. "I'm going to have to call up UNIT, see what they can do about you."

The Doctor patted his pockets as he stood. "Er, Molly, could I borrow your phone?"

She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out an ancient orange Nokia. "I don't have too many minutes," she said. "Can you do some alien thing and reverse the charges?"

"Sure," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"You call your alien friends and I'll entertain your arch enemies," she said with a widening smile.

The Doctor sighed, shaking his head, but as he keyed in the number for the American UNIT base, he looked over his shoulder to where Molly leaned in, engrossed in the lead limus's tales of tribulations on seeking revenge against the Doctor. It was a stretch, but he managed the least little curve of a smile.

* * *

"Well," the Doctor began, leading Molly down the front steps of the auditorium as disguised UNIT vans rushed up around the building to contain the alien forces within, "that was a bit anticlimactic, wasn't it?"

"I dunno," she answered, her arm cradled in his. "Sort of fun for my first alien encounter. Boy, those chocolate things were just about the most adorable things I've ever seen." She watched the advent of several UNIT officers concernedly. "What exactly did you tell your alien friends was in there?"

"They're human," he groaned. "And I just told them the truth. I've got my arch nemeses trapped down in the green room. I'm sure wherever they're going, there won't be an abundance of Earth literature." He scrutinized her for a moment. "That bit about _Rime of the Ancient Mariner_... You really think all that?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. I haven't read it yet."

The Doctor laughed, something bright and clear in the autumnal night. "Well, Molly Shae Callaghan, you have a bit of humor after all."

"I'm hilarious," she argued, her face hurt and deadpan.

He ceased his laughing nervously, then attempted to bring back his enthusiastic smile. "Look, I've got a bit of a dilemma, and since you already know I'm an alien, I suppose it can't hurt to ask."

"This is about stalking me, isn't it?"

"Yes. Well, no. Well, it wasn't really stalking, was it?" He paused, then in a low, strained voice, he squeaked, "Wellll..." He shook it off. "I'm a bit of a traveller."

"A hobo," she clarified.

"You could say that, I guess. _Gypsy_, maybe."

"If you don't tell fortunes, I'm not interested."

A slight glare to hold in his eyes. "If you don't stop that, I'm not asking you to come along with me."

She perked up immediately. "Go where?"

"Oh, here and there," he trailed off, tossing his eyes to the sky. "I've usually got someone to come along with me, but I've been alone for a while. Time I picked someone else up for the ride, I suppose. Life of a hobo can get pretty lonely sometimes."

She giggled. "And you picked me on accident."

"Basically," he admitted with a sigh.

"What about exams?" She asked. "I'm a straight-B student right now. A four-point-oh in my major, Doctor. I'd like to keep that up."

"Not a problem," he said cheerfully. "I'll have you home in time."

She leered over the top of her glasses. "You're sure?"

"Oh, positive," he said with a dashing smile.

She grinned happily, clasping her hands together. "Sure!" She did a short little dance that seemed to have no rhythm or sense of movement. "I'll be the Short Round to your intergalactic Jones, Doctor. Can I call you Doctor Jones?"

"No."

"Batman?"

"Why Batman?" He questioned, eyebrows lowering.

She paused, scratching at her ear in thought. "He's awesome?"

"Just the Doctor," he amended.

They linked arms again and headed off into the darkness. They returned to her dorm quickly, where she burst into her room without warning. Jenny looked up with an alarmed expression.

"The play over already?" Jenny asked as Molly sorted through her clothes at random.

"No," Molly said. "Well, kinda. Aliens came and interrupted it. I basically saved the day with a literary argument." She stuffed clothes into one of her bags almost without looking at them first. "Just the essentials," she reminded herself.

"Going somewhere?" Jenny asked, writing off the alien story as another of Molly's obscure inside jokes.

"Yep. The Doctor's taking me on a trip," she said with light shining in the back of her eyes.

"The hobo? You just met him!"

"Yeah, well he just met me, too, so we're in the same boat."

"You're gonna get raped," Jenny warned in a low, serious voice.

"Don't worry," Molly said, throwing the bag of clothes over one shoulder. "I think he's gay. Be back for exams!" She said before waving and dashing out the door as quickly as she'd come.

* * *

AN: Hello folks! Or, the few of you who are reading this... This one's longer! And I reveal the true intentions! And I still love writing Molly! And you got Rick Roll'd! There will be plenty of TARDIS in the next chapter, along with some strange new destination!! Let me know what you think of the little nemeses, and how my Doc characterization is going so far. I've been watching a lot of the Fifth Doctor (Peter Davison) so I hope his influence hasn't gotten too far into Ten's characterization here (even if they are pretty similar! My two faves!!) Also, point of interest, limus means mud in latin (or so one of my latin-class friends has told me). Anyway, let me know what you think, leave us some love, and stay awesome!


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